


when you are close to me, i shiver

by jacksonwhipitmore



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Playful Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, basically sex and feelings is what this fic is about, or at least some feelings, sex with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 13:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonwhipitmore/pseuds/jacksonwhipitmore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not a perfect arrangement. Lydia still sets Derek up every month and she somehow does it on the nights that Stiles just needs Derek to be on top of him. And Derek doesn't say anything when it happens, but he wrinkles his nose anytime Stiles shows up after a one-night-stand with someone who isn't him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when you are close to me, i shiver

**Author's Note:**

> i was listening to a playlist of songs that reminded me of happy and playful sex i'm not sure how it ended up like this
> 
> also, i didn't know how to end this fic. you can tell. i also didn't know how to tag this other than "porn with feelings" so

Stiles and Derek have sex. A lot. Like, _marathons_. Any time Scott is busy with Isaac or Allison and Peter isn't hanging around, one of them texts the other and Stiles drives to Derek's loft, or Derek drives down to Berkeley. They don't pretend it's anything more than sex, because it isn't. Stiles hasn't had a good date since his girlfriend in freshman year and, while he hasn't remained completely dateless (Lydia sets him up at least once a month because she's terrified that the next time he tries to get a date on his own, someone will die) (she's not alone in the fear), Derek hasn't exactly been eager to get into bed with someone who might just end up trying to kill the pack.

It started last summer when Stiles got home. They'd always kind of flirted, even when Stiles had been in high school, but it was always supposed to be harmless. The pack would roll their eyes, Peter would make an inappropriate comment and Stiles would ask why they hadn't killed him yet, to which Lydia would shout "hear, hear" excitedly. And then Stiles stayed late after the pack meeting, after everyone headed home, to help clean up.

Derek had been bent over to pick up a discarded paper plate, muttering about killing Isaac for being such a slob. Stiles had just walked back into the room to pick up more trash. It really wasn't his fault that he groaned, he claims to this day, because Derek still wears unspeakably tight jeans and it had been awhile since Stiles had gotten laid, okay? It definitely wasn't his fault that Derek could smell Stiles' spike in arousal.

It was his fault that, when Derek stood up straight and turned to glare, he rushed at him and attacked Derek's mouth.

Derek had been so shocked, he'd actually stumbled backwards. They would've fallen if he hadn't grabbed at the back of the couch.

Ever since then, they've been having sex. The pack hates it simply because they know all the fighting is real foreplay now and, no matter how many times Derek cleans the sheets on the bed, the room always faintly smells of Stiles and Derek and sex. As soon as everyone heads their separate ways, Stiles ends up in Derek's bed with Derek biting down hard on his skin. Stiles gives as good as he gets, scratching his nails against various spots of Derek's skin and sucking at his neck, but Derek doesn't have the bruises or scratch marks to prove they'd ever done anything the next morning. Stiles, though? Stiles looks like he gets _mauled_.

Sheriff Stilinski hates it, groans and covers his eyes everytime Stiles skips into the kitchen with a goofy grin on his face. Always threatens to buy make-up or scarves. Sometimes he mutters about cutting out the middle man and just shooting Derek Hale in the head. He's got wolfsbane bullets now. He could do it. Except Stiles is so _happy_. Happy in a way that the Sheriff thinks he hasn't been since his mom was alive.

\---

The first time Scott had seen the bruises and bite marks, he'd gotten so angry he actually threw Derek out a window. Stiles thinks he might've tried to kill him if Stiles hadn't started yelling about how it was totally consensual and definitely Stiles' idea. He also pointed out, glumly, that Derek would look similar if he didn't have stupid werewolf powers. Scott couldn't stop looking at them, horror etched on his face, until Allison arrived and he could bury his face in her neck. Stiles asked if Derek was okay because he was expecting a repeat of the night before.

Scott had let loose a high-pitched whine. Derek just smirked at him.

\---

Stiles laughs with his whole body, face flushes a pretty color, and it's this that makes Derek wonder if the flush covers his entire body. So next time they're alone and naked, Derek tries to bring it back.

Stiles leans up to catch Derek's mouth in a long kiss, but Derek turns it into a quick chaste one, pulling back. He runs his nose along Stiles' and the boy lets his head fall back in amusement, a smile making it's way across his face.

"What're you doing?" he asks, rubbing a thumb across Derek's nipple. Derek catches the hand and pins it to the bed.

"Experimenting."

And Stiles just... Lets him. He tries everything. He lets his hands run lightly over Stiles' ribs. He kisses along his belly button after he remembers Scott tickling him around that area the day before. He even trails his fingers down his feet at one point, but Derek thinks maybe Stiles is too turned on to laugh completely. So he nips lightly at his collarbone, kisses the hair below his navel, and licks a long stripe up Stiles' cock. It's not until his nose is pressed to Stiles' pubes, the head of his cock touching the back of his throat, and Stiles' fingers are twisted into his hair, back arching so gracefully off the bed, that Derek figures out what to do.

He pulls off with an obscene ' _pop_ ,' causing Stiles to cry out, shouting "I was so close!" He kisses his way back up Stiles' torso, stopping right above his belly button and blows a raspberry against his stomach. Stiles is so shocked, he curls in on himself with laughter, kneeing Derek in the face.

Derek got to see the way his entire body turned that same pretty pink, though, so he's pretty sure it was worth it.

\---

It's not a perfect arrangement. Lydia still sets Derek up every month and she somehow does it on the nights that Stiles just needs Derek to be on top of him, whether it's because of a bad day or horrible boredom. And Derek doesn't say anything when it happens, but he wrinkles his nose anytime Stiles shows up after a one-night-stand with someone who isn't him.

\---

Their sex sessions are rough and playful a lot of the times, but sometimes Derek will just have this utterly lost look on his face when Stiles shows up. Stiles will lead Derek to the bed in the corner and undress him slowly, kissing each inch of skin as it's revealed. Sucks a hickey onto his collarbone despite knowing it'll be gone before they're even finished. He'll ease Derek open one finger at time until Derek is almost sobbing, gripping at Stiles' shoulders and kissing in the general area of his mouth, before pushing into him and rocking slowly until they're both just breathing the other's air, too far gone to even try for a proper kiss.

Other times, it's Stiles who needs to be taken apart slowly and put back together again. Whether it's because his dad had been targeted by the hunters who rolled into town or it's almost his Mom's death anniversary. And Derek will treat him accordingly. He rushes the undressing part just to get them both naked and then he'll go straight to Stiles' dick and take him into his mouth. He'll blow him until Stiles feels like he's dying, _just_ on the edge of coming, and he'll back off, letting Stiles catch his breath again. And then he'll lick down Stiles' cock, down until he reaches his opening and he'll press his tongue flat against it just to hear Stiles' sharp intake of breath. He'll get him off just like that, maybe pressing a finger or two in alongside his tongue, and then he'll hold Stiles' head to his chest as he comes back down.

Each time, no matter who needs to be fixed, they both feel like their drowning in fire.

\---

It's a Monday when everything changes. Stiles pushes Derek too far, cracking a joke about Kate and Jennifer in the same breath, and Derek taunts him about junior year when Stiles had himself committed out of fear that he was the one trying to hurt Kira, hurt the pack. Scott glares at them both, but it's been an unspoken rule between them all ever since Derek and Stiles started sleeping together: give them one night to fix it with their weird sex and, if it's not better in the morning, then they'll intervene. So Scott drives Allison home and Lydia shoves Isaac out the door.

Derek marches over to Stiles and yanks his shirt over his head, not caring if he's a little too rough about it, not caring that Stiles lets out a low "ow, fuck" through gritted teeth. He leans in and presses his mouth to Stiles' shoulder, biting down hard enough to actually draw blood. Stiles yelps and jerks Derek's head back by his hair, causing him to suck in a breath through his teeth at the sting of it. Derek grabs Stiles by the thighs and hoists the younger man up, barely giving him time to wrap his legs around his waist before shoving him against the column closest to the bed.

Stiles sinks his own teeth into Derek's neck as payback and Derek's eyes actually flash blue.

They just make out against the column, Stiles raking his nails against Derek's back where he can reach and Derek letting his claws tear at Stiles' jeans because neither are ready to apologize. By the time Derek finally throws Stiles onto the bed, Stiles' jeans look like they've gone through a shredder and Derek's shoulders are covered with already-fading scratches.

Derek pulls Stiles' jeans down without unbuttoning them, taking his boxers with them, and shoves his own pants down.

When Derek climbs on top of him, Stiles shakes his head and shoves until they're rolling, Stiles sitting on Derek's hips. He reaches over to the table by the bed and grabs the lube, snapping it open and getting his fingers slick enough to reach behind him, pressing his own fingers inside of him and rocking back on them.

Derek sits up, leaning forward to kiss his exposed neck. He finally mutters a soft apology against the pale skin and Stiles scratches at the stubble on Derek's cheek in forgiveness. When he's finally ready, Derek lets Stiles set the pace as he lowers himself down on Derek's cock. He's expecting a fast pace to keep with the theme of the night, but Stiles lifts his hips slowly and grinds down just as slow. Derek falls back against the bed, pulling Stiles with him. His cock slips out for a moment, but Stiles quickly replaces it and shudders at the new angle.

It is so similar to the nights when they break each other down, yet so very different. This isn't because Derek is thinking of Kate or Jennifer, this isn't because Stiles is scared his father is going to get hurt because of him or his mom's anniversary is close. This for them, the only person they're thinking of is each other. Stiles presses his fingers down against Derek's chest and Derek grips Stiles' hips hard enough to bruise and they're both whispering each other's names.

Derek lifts his hips up to meet one of Stiles' downward thrusts and Stiles chokes out a broken apology. He stills, just gasps "sorry, sorry, so sorry" over and over into Derek's mouth. Derek rolls them to where he's leaning over Stiles, bracketing his head with his arms. He strokes a finger down Stiles' cheek and presses their lips together in an all-consuming kiss that tastes like ash and sickness and forgiveness and something neither are prepared to identify at the moment. Stiles brings his hands up to cup Derek's face and Derek's hips start moving again, slower than earlier but gaining speed.

They're both laying in bed afterwards, trying to catch their breaths. Stiles is tracing shapes on Derek's chest while Derek presses his nose to Stiles' hair. Their feet are tangled together underneath the sheets. Stiles keeps shoving his cold toes against Derek's warm feet, causing the older man to huff into his hair.

It's the longest they've laid in bed together, other than the nights when one of them just _needs_ it. Stiles presses a kiss to Derek's nipple and laughs softly when it hardens, laughs harder when Derek grumbles about it. They lay in the dark, not talking, for awhile. Stiles isn't sure if it's an hour or more and he doesn't care. His body aches in the best way and Derek's toes are rubbing against his feet and it should be weird, but it isn't.

Surprisingly, it's Derek who breaks the silence.

"I don't want to go on Lydia's dates anymore," he says. He keeps his voice soft, not quite a whisper. He wraps his arms around Stiles' shoulders and pulls him more on top of him. Stiles lifts his head so that his chin is resting on Derek's chest and he can look at his face.

"So don't go," he says with a shrug. He brings his hand up to run his fingers down Derek's cheek, letting the stubble burn the pads of them. Derek twists his mouth, looking like he wants to say something else but is scared of Stiles' reaction. Stiles sighs and raises an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything. Lets Derek decide if he wants to say it, always lets Derek decide.

Derek takes a deep breath and it makes Stiles shudder against him. When he lets it out the words, "I don't want you to sleep with anyone else either," come with it. He squeezes his eyes shut and is wearing his vulnerable look, the one that makes Stiles' heart jump into his throat. Stiles doesn't say anything immediately, just thinks about it. He's been thinking along the same lines lately, how Derek is the only one he really wants to sleep with. Means that in every sense of the word. Sometimes, he'll catch himself daydreaming in class about coming home to Beacon Hills and climbing into bed to just cuddle into Derek's side. But, Derek isn't the only damaged goods in their relationship. Stiles still has to scream himself awake some nights, trapped in a dream where he's standing over a body, a different pack member each time.

"We should go to therapy," Stiles finally says. Derek's eyes snap open and he stares at Stiles in confusion. "Not together. I meant... I know you still have bad days, okay? And I'm still having nightmares, even after all this time. We can talk to Deaton, if you'd prefer to not have to erase all the supernatural shit, but if we're going to be together, we both need therapy. Hell, even if we _aren't_ going to be together, we need it."

"You want us to be together?" Derek asks. His voice is so full of tentative hope that Stiles has to grin. He pushes himself up onto his elbows and leans down, kissing Derek full on the mouth. When they pull away, Derek is practically purring.

"Yeah, I want us to be together."

**Author's Note:**

> title from walk the moon's "shiver, shiver"
> 
> this was my first time writing porn DID I DO ANYTHING WRONG?
> 
> p.s. i'm on [tumblr](http://jacksonwhipitmore.tumblr.com) if you want to say hi!


End file.
